Chaos and Moonlight (Order of the Nines Book 1)

by Marrow, A. D.

  “Who did this to her?” Nick’s question was aimed toward Taris, but his eyes were still fixed on Kalin.

  “She did,” Taris’ voice slipped past the unshed tears stuck in his throat. “She did it to herself.”

  “How could such a beautiful angel be so sad?”

  Taris’ head jerked, and he stared at Nick, who was still focusing on Kalin. The whole aura around Nick was suddenly vastly different. He knew he shouldn’t have, but Taris tapped into Nick’s emotions and was shocked to discover that the feelings of death and self-loathing no longer welled within him. There was something different. No longer was his own suicide at the forefront, but his pain swirled around Kalin.

  “She needs rest.” Taris looked around for a blanket but couldn’t find one. “I’m going to take her to bed. You can get cleaned up and take the van back down to the safe house. You can’t leave the property without one of us letting you out, so I know you won’t go anywhere. Just tell Sarah that—”

  “Let me stay with her.”

  Even Nick was amazed at the statement that came out of his mouth.

  “What?” Surely Taris hadn’t heard him right.

  “I said, let me stay with her. You guys have business to take care of, right? So you can go back there, and I will stay here, to, you know, make sure nothing happens to her. Again.”

  Taris had to take a step back and think about what was happening here. Nick was still watching Kalin, and he had to assess just how much he was willing to accept that. It wasn’t as if he was looking at her like a perv, far from it. He seemed to be keeping a genuine watchful eye on her. He really seemed to want to look after her.

  Kalin’s eyes fluttered open. Tilting her head, she gazed up into Taris’ face.

  “Taris, go to Sarah. Leave me here with him. I will be safe. I won’t try it again. I have seen the other side and have learned my lesson. Please, Taris. Go.”

  Kalin closed her eyes again and finally drifted off to sleep.

  “Fine,” Taris blurted out. “You can stay with her. She should sleep for at least the next few hours, and I will be back by the time she wakes up. But I warn you, skinbag, you hurt her and—”

  “Yeah, I know, I got it. You’ll rip my throat out. We’ve covered this. Just tell me where I can put her and where I can catch a shower and get some clothes and we’ll be all good. Oh, and a Band-Aid or something ’cause this shit,” Nick pointed to his ear, “hurts.”

  After instructing him to put Kalin in his room, Taris told him to help himself to anything in his closet. They were close to the same height and build, so Nick should be able to find something that fit, at least until tomorrow. Once Kalin was settled in bed, he showed Nick the kitchen and the billiard room.

  Taris didn’t have time to shower before he met the half hour deadline, so he grabbed some clothes and a pair of worn-out flip-flops.

  “Dude, you look ridiculous, wearing all that leather with those beach boats on.” Nick got out a good laugh before realizing the narrowed-eye look meant Taris wasn’t amused.

  “The number to the house is speed dial one. Anyone up there can help you. I’ll be back after business is done. Keep her safe.”

  Taris walked out the door. After the night he’d had, he needed a shower and a fifth of something with a proof higher than the IQ of all the MENSA members put together.

  The more he thought about it on the drive back down the safe house, the more he realized that since Sarah had shown up, his life had been one gigantic, bloody mess.

  The problem was that he was beginning to like it that way.

  Chapter 18

  “Sarah. Sarah, wake up!”

  Sarah jolted up off the bed, her eyes still partially shut. A sudden slam and the sharp jab of something in her forehead sent her crashing back onto her pillow.

  “Oh, shit! Are you okay?”

  She rubbed her palm to her forehead, trying to ease the pain. She felt what had to be a little blood touching her palm, and she winced.

  “Ow.” It was the only word she managed to get out. Her eyes were still squeezed shut, but she could hear someone rustling around in the room. Drawers were pulled open, lights in the bathroom were flipped on and off. The water faucet was turned on once, twice, finally a third time before she heard the light switch flip again and felt the depression of the bed beside her.

  “I didn’t know you startled so easy.” She felt a warm hand pull her fingers away and the cool compress of a damp rag hit her forehead. Her eyes remained shut. She didn’t have to open them to know that Taris was in the room with her.

  “How’s Nick?” she asked.

  “He’s fine. He’s keeping Kalin company right now.” He dabbed at the gash in her forehead. Sarah gently opened her eyes but could only see his wrist in front of her face. She smiled a little when he pulled the rag away and quickly ran the cloth over his tongue before bringing it back to her forehead. Instantly, she felt the same odd tingle she’d felt before when he had healed her.

  “So was that his decision or yours?”

  Taris was almost clinical in his repair of the gash that his fang made in her forehead. “It was hers, actually. He didn’t make it any easier, since he’s a pushy bastard and he just rolled right along with it.” He cleared his throat. “Guess you could say they just sort of took to each other.”

  Sarah nodded, still trying to shake the brief, albeit deep, sleep she’d fallen into. After watching the taillights of the van fade into blackness, she’d let Rhiannon lead her into the house and guide her upstairs to the guest bedroom. She hadn’t realized the level of her exhaustion, and the scalding hot shower that Rhiannon had helped her into seemed to compound the fact that she was completely mentally broken down. A small modicum of alertness stirred within her, even as she’d let the hot water wash away the vestiges of the previous hours. She’d washed her hair with the floral-scented shampoo in the shower caddy. She’d washed her face and scrubbed every inch of her skin from head to toe before finally shutting off the water and stepping out.

  The bath towels that had been waiting for her were almost comfortable enough to wrap up and sleep in, and she would have done just that, except for the pile of clothes on the counter that had made her stop dead in her tracks. She had to fight the urge to squeal with joy as she ran her hands over the worn flannel boxers and her faded, vintage Diamond Dogs T-shirt. On impulse, she lifted them up to her nose and took in the cool crisp scent of fresh laundry. Someone had washed her clothes, the ones she’d been ever so delicately kidnapped in. Not only did they smell like heaven, but they were still warm, like they had just come out of the dryer. She’d completely ignored the underwear that was sitting beneath them and shrugged on the shorts and T-shirt.

  To add to the majesty of the moment, her toothbrush and hairbrush were there, too. Never in her life had she taken so long to do something so simple as brush her teeth or get the tangles out of her hair—which was actually pointless considering it curled right back up again.

  After brushing her teeth twice, she’d padded her way out to the enormous sleigh bed covered in so many thick blankets that it took nearly three pulls just to get them free enough for her to crawl underneath them. She’d had every intention of staying awake until Nick and Taris got back, but the moment her skin hit the warm flannel sheets, her body gave in, and she drifted off into a very deep sleep.

  Only to be jolted awake by a fang in her forehead.

  She yawned and snuggled down deeper into the blankets. “So are you going to fill him in tomorrow?”

  “Fill him in on what?” Taris shifted. His feet were still touching the floor, despite the height of the bed. She hadn’t noticed before, but he had one arm planted firmly at her hip. A wayward thought ran through her mind: the only thing that separated his hand from her skin was a mountain of goose down.

  “You know, the whole saving-the-vampire-race thing. He’s open-minded, so I’m sure you’ll get no trouble from him when you tell him why we’re here.”

  Taris
chuckled and pushed himself up. “The vampire part is already taken care of, Sarah”

  “And how did he take it?”

  Taris thought about his sister and Nick. He thought about what had transpired among the three of them. How could he possibly tell Sarah? He knew he needed to, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to broach it.

  “He took it like a champ, actually. No shirking or wincing or freaking out. He just…accepted it.”

  Sarah let out a breath that she hadn’t even realized she was holding. “Well, that’s good. It will make things much easier for me when I start working tomorrow. Taris,” she paused, taking in a deep breath, “will you tell me who that woman was?” She shifted in the bed, turning onto her side to watch Taris as he slowly paced. He looked at her, then at the floor again, and she could tell he was trying to find the right words. She watched him as he began to pace a little faster and noticed he was still dressed for the fight in his leathers. Gone was his bulletproof vest, but he still wore the black muscle tee, and she watched as the linguistic tattoo on his arm rippled. His forearms were covered in blood. Blood from when he’d come unleashed and taken the head clean off a man with nothing but sheer strength of will and clever maneuvering. The memory chilled her to the bone, and Sarah fought back a terrified shiver. She looked him over, head to toe, once more in an effort to distract her memory from the horror she’d witnessed. It was then that she saw the gaping wound on his foot.

  “Oh my God, what happened to your foot?”

  She threw back the covers and hopped out of bed. He didn’t have time to protest before she was sitting on the floor in front of him, running her fingers over the split skin.

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle, Sarah. Just get back in bed. I will take care of it.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and rather than allow him to help her back to bed, she used his still blood-spattered arm as leverage. Once planted on her feet, she grabbed his hand and all but dragged him into the bathroom. She pushed him down onto the side of the tub and leaned over him, turning on the hot water.

  “How long has this been this way, Taris?” Sarah flitted around the bathroom like a busy bee, retrieving the washrag he’d used to clean her forehead. Once the water was steaming, she ran the rag underneath the faucet and wrung it out. She carefully dabbed at the edges of the raw wound, cleaning blood from the skin surrounding it.

  “Sarah, you don’t have to—”

  “Taris, don’t argue. Please. Just let me help.”

  He stopped trying to fight her. The rigid response he’d initially had to her touch faded with every warm pass of the cloth. Her fingers were gentle, and she handled the sight of his ripped flesh as if she were a seasoned ER physician, not a medical researcher. His shoulders fell backward until they were met by the cool tile on the wall. He let the tingles she sent through him register in every nerve, closing his eyes.

  “Will you tell me what happened?” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. He cracked his lids open to see her chocolate brown eyes staring into his face, and he almost came undone. From the moment he’d sat beside her on the bed as she slept, he’d wanted nothing more than to strip off everything and climb underneath the sheets with her. She smelled like lilacs and vanilla, and he ached to feel her velvety skin touching every part of him. But cooler heads needed to prevail, especially now that there was way more at stake than just the task at hand. He needed to explain everything to her before allowing himself to dream of her this way. Pulling himself up from his perch on the side of the tub, he held out a hand to her and gently brought her to her feet. He stared down at her, drinking in the sight of her wide eyes and gently upturned nose. On impulse, he brought his hand to the side of her face and threaded his fingers in her hair.

  “I will tell you everything, Sarah. Anything and everything you want to know.” He licked his lips and then brought them down to meet hers, ever so softly. “I need to shower first, and then whatever you ask of me, it is yours.”

  He gently turned her and walked her to the door. Once in the bedroom, he swept her up into his arms and carefully placed her in bed, covering her to the chin with the warm goose down.

  Sarah couldn’t speak. She simply nodded and watched him grab the shirt at the center of his back and swiftly pull it over his head as he walked to the bathroom. It was then she noticed that in addition to the star tattoo between his shoulder blades, he had three linear scars stretched diagonally from one side of his back to the other. It made her heart sink. He was covered with scars. His forearm, his back. Even the strange scar she’d noticed behind his ear, all of them had a story to tell. And she wanted to hear them.

  * * *

  “Judah, buddy, where you headed?”

  Judah stopped at the door, duffel bag in hand. He turned to see Achan leaning against the railing of the stairway landing.

  “Cut off camo shorts and a T-shirt aren’t exactly high fashion,” Judah smirked, staring up at Achan who was in what he referred to as his “lounge attire.” To Achan, this loosely translated to offensive novelty shirts and pants that would have been better used as rags for washing cars.

  “Don’t deflect. It makes you seem sneaky and conniving,” Achan shot back with a smile as he bounded down the stairs two at a time. “Seriously, where you going? You need to patch your shoulder up.”

  “Planning on it,” Judah said as he turned the knob and pulled the door open. “I can deal with the scars, but my vascular system is a bit dry.”

  “Still doesn’t explain the bag.”

  The moment Judah’s eyes met his, Achan knew where he was going and what he was doing. It was an unspoken understanding between them, something that they never talked about. None of the others knew what Judah did. They didn’t need to. Rhiannon, it would just terrify, and she would hover over him like a Freudian mother hen, and Zillah… Well, Zillah, in her current state of mind, would probably kill him.

  “You know you don’t have to keep this up, Jude. This could all be solved with a sit-down and a heart-to-heart.”

  “No, it can’t, and you know it. It’s gone on this long, and it hasn’t killed anyone. What makes you think it’s going to change now?”

  “Judah, all I’m saying is that maybe you need to rethink this whole silence deal.”

  “Don’t piss on my coping mechanisms, okay?”

  Judah flung open the door and slammed it shut before Achan could say another word to him. All he could do was shake his head and get comfortable. He’d kept this vigil for Judah before. Many times. Judah was always an emotional nightmare when he came back from something like this, and when he dragged himself in tomorrow morning, he would be all the more worse for wear.

  Achan sucked in a deep breath and walked into the Man Room. He retrieved the old, and now full, bottle of whisky that was sitting on the sideboard.

  “Well, looks like it’s just you, me, and The Empire Strikes Back,” he said to the bottle as he made his way out of the room and up the stairs. Once on the landing, he cast another glance at the door, hoping that Judah would come walking back through it with a different plan of attack. No such luck.

  * * *

  Sarah had to force her hands to stop fidgeting. She was nervous. What she had to be nervous about was anyone’s guess, really, but she couldn’t stop her fingers from toying with the pattern on the comforter while she listened to the water hit the floor in the shower stall. She didn’t know if it was the revelation to come that had her completely on edge or if it was the fact that Taris was just a few feet away from her with zero clothes on.

  It was pointless trying to hide her attraction to him anymore. There were no barriers—well, save for a huge one: the whole reason he’d saved her in the first place. But aside from that, she had no wall to hide behind. Everyone had seen it. From Judah, to Rhiannon, to the always-observant Nick, who’d whispered “He wants you” during one of his brief moments of lucidity while in the back of the van.

  The intimate touches between them had been blatant, and a blind man would
have been able to see the sparks that flew when they were in a room together.

  “Animal attraction,” she muttered to herself. “It’s just plain and simple: animal attraction. You see it all the time. People want each other, but they know it’s a mistake. I want him, he wants me, that doesn’t mean anything has to happen. I should just do the job and be done with it. That’s it.”

  “What’s it?”

  She’d been talking to herself out loud. Holy shit! How much had he heard? She sucked in a deep breath and tried to play it off, but any semblance of speech was abruptly cut off when she looked up at him.

  Taris’ large frame leaned against the doorway, the width of his shoulders taking up almost the entire space. His chest was bare and smooth, and his defined abs tapered down to a set of narrow hips that were gloriously hugged by the frayed waistband of a pair of faded jeans. He was drying his hair with a towel, and she’d never really noticed how gorgeous his hair was before. In the light of the bathroom, it showed subtle glints of gold and crimson red mixed in with deep, dark brown. The way the shoulder-length shag fell around his face brought out his amber eyes and highlighted his rugged bone structure.

  “Sorry,” Sarah cleared her throat as she watched him aimlessly rub the towel over his wet hair. “I was just talking to myself about the, um, the project tomorrow.”

  “Oh,” Taris said as he tossed the towel onto the bathroom floor. “Sorry I took so long. I had to patch up the foot.”

  Sarah looked down at the top of his bare foot, which had been almost split in two. Where once there was a raw gash, there was now just a pink mark. An image popped into her head, and she pursed her lips, trying hard not to laugh aloud.

  “What?” Taris cocked an eyebrow and made his way to the bed. “Why are you laughing?”

  “You didn’t lick your own foot, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t lick my own foot. I used the tried-and-true tongue-on-the-rag routine.”

  He couldn’t help but let a laugh slip out when he thought about it. It was a ridiculous idea, the thought of him sitting in the bathtub, pretzeling his leg so he could lick the top of his own foot.